I'll Protect You
by MyHandsADolphin
Summary: Sam notices some things about Rachel, and realizes her relationship with her new boyfriend isn't as good as it seems. T 'cause I'm very paranoid. Samchel friendship, but may turn into something more.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee.**

**Based off one of the chapters in Kat Shady's story 'Dear Writers of Fanfiction'. You should read it. Seriously. It's really funny.**

**Note: In this story, Sam never left after S2. But him and Mercedes still broke up.**

I first saw it when I was walking to my first class of my first day back at McKinley after break. I had heard Rachel and her new boyfriend, Jeremy, arguing quietly in the corner while I was getting my things, but I hadn't thought anything of it. After all, every relationship had problems.

Maybe I should explain. During break, Rachel and Finn had broken up. Those two always had their problems. But then Rachel had met some messy haired, blond guy who had moved here. That was Jeremy. He was from California, a former surfer. Rachel had immediately fallen for him, and before any of us could catch up, they were together. 'We' being New Directions. Of course, we were happy for her, but quite a few of us had been secretly suspicious. Rachel wasn't the type of girl to just quickly fall in love with some guy she didn't really know. Even with Finn, she had known him before. But of course, we didn't say anything. She was happy, and we didn't want to stop that.

Anyway, after grabbing my books, I was walking down the hallway. Rachel was walking the other way, away from Jeremy. I accidentally bumped into her left arm on my way. And that was when I noticed two things. The first one was, when I bumped into her, she winced. Like pain and fear wince. Two, when I bumped into her, one of her three-quarter length sleeves got pushed up slightly and I saw four bruises. Four suspicious finger-print shaped bruises.

For a moment, I just stood there, looking at the bruises. Rachel seemed shocked for a moment, then quickly pushed her sleeve back up, apologized and quickly walked away. I just stood there. I couldn't really process what I had just seen. What did it mean? It was very suspicious. Maybe I should tell the others.

I shook my head. No, it was nothing. She probably got those bruises from being accidentally pushed or something. They were nothing. The bell rang, and I realized I was late. It was nothing. Rachel was fine. That was what I told myself. For some reason, though, I couldn't quite believe it.

For the rest of the week, I watched Rachel. And I noticed a lot of things I hadn't noticed before.

First of all, she was wearing long sleeved shirts or dresses a lot more. Actually, she was wearing a lot more clothes all round. She wore tall boots now, and long jeans nearly all the time. And if she did wear a dress or skirt, she would wear something beneath it. Sometimes she would even wear sunglasses. When this had first happened, I had asked her why. She had just said she had a hangover. That was normal for nearly everyone. But Rachel didn't drink.

I also noticed she was spending a lot less time around others as well. She preferred not to talk as much, which was extremely strange for Rachel, and she almost seemed fearful of men. Men, like Finn and Mike, that were her friends. Rachel was basically trying to cut herself off from society. That was not the Rachel I knew.

I noticed her relationship with Jeremy was very stressed. More than I had first thought. In public, they were all lovey-dovey, but when they thought no one was listening, they argued. Like when they were alone in the hallways. Or after school. I had been finishing up football practice once when I heard them arguing. It wasn't just a typical argument. Jeremy seemed really angry. And Rachel almost seemed...scared. Jeremy had just gotten really angry and sounded like he was about to do something when Puck had interrupted me. By the time we had finished talking the argument was over.

I also noticed things about Jeremy. At first, he had seemed to be quite nice. Not as polite as some, but nice enough. But I noticed now he got annoyed and angry at the smallest of things, like a broken pencil.

All of this put together made me worried. I knew something was going on. But still, I kept making up excuses not to tell the others or to confront Rachel.

Everyday for two weeks things got worse. I kept seeing bruises on Rachel. She kept wearing more and more clothes. She wore sunglasses nearly everyday now. Her relationship was getting worse. And I kept making excuses.

Until one day. That day. I was late for class, and I was running through the empty halls, when I ran into Rachel. As soon as I hit her, I felt incredibly guilty, "Oh, Rachel, I'm so sorry!" That was when I noticed it. She had fallen when I had ran into her, and was kneeling on the ground. Her sunglasses had fallen off, and she was look at the ground, hiding her face. But I still saw a brief glimpse of her face. I saw the black and purple skin. I also saw the black and purple skin when a gap appeared between her shirt and jeans as she was kneeling over.

I froze, shocked. Rachel quickly put her sunglasses on, got up, apologized, and walked quickly away. But I had seen enough already. I knew something was going on. And I knew I had to do something. There was no excuse for this.

That day, after football practice, I sat down in my room at home with a piece of paper and pencil. Even though we had been broke before break, my dad had gotten a job and now we had money again. Although our house was still small, at least it had rooms. It had a small kitchen, a small-ish living room, a bathroom and three bedrooms. Even though Stevie and Stacy had to share a room, and we all had to share a bathroom, it was better than a motel room.

I honestly didn't know what to do. How was I supposed to tell Rachel I knew Jeremy was doing something to her? I couldn't just confront her. I didn't have the nerve to do that. And she would probably deny it anyway. There had to be a reason why Rachel was staying with Jeremy. In any normal situation, I knew Rachel would've told soemone and broken up with Jeremy already. But she hadn't. Why not?

Suddenly, I felt anger swell up inside me. Why was he doing this to Rachel? What had she ever done to him? Rachel was just a sweet girl with big dreams. Sure, she could be annoying, but her heart was in the right place. Why did he hurt her?

I knew what I had to do. Quickly, I began to scribble down a letter to Rachel. If she wanted to reply to it, she could. And if she didn't, at least she knew someone was here to protect her.

After re-reading and editing about a thousand times (Damn dyslexia), I read it one last time. This was the final result:

_Dear Rachel,_

_Hi. Uh, I know it's not my place or anything, but you've been kind of down lately. You used to be the light of the Glee Club, but now…_

_If there's anything I can help you with, let me know. I know you and Jeremy have been having problems. I heard you guys yelling in the Choir Room before practice the other day, and I'm not watching you guys or anything, but it seems like your relationship has been a little cold lately. Even the best of couples have problems. But you've been acting strange. When I almost bumped into you on my way to math, you flinched. Not just a normal collision hit, you flinched as if you were scared. I can't stop thinking about it. And you've been wearing long sleeved shirts more than you usually would, and it's not that cold. But when you're sleeve pulled up a bit, I saw your arm, and I can't help but think that it's more than everyday arguing._

_Yeah, I saw the little purple bruises on your arm. Those are Jeremy shaped fingerprints. At first I thought, 'Maybe it was an accident.' Then I saw another set. Again, I thought 'Maybe it's nothing.' Another day, another set. And with each one, I made some petty excuse as to why you would have them. I'm so sorry that I did._

_I know why you're wearing sunglasses. Hangover my ass. You're not a drinker, I learned that at your party. He hit you, didn't he? The jackass punched you, and you're afraid to say something._

_Look, I don't know if this letter's gonna help anything, but let me tell you this:_

_We all love you._

_Every one of us in Glee._

_Yes, we bicker, we pretend we hate each other, but we're a family. I'm not going to make you do anything, but you have to know that if you did tell someone, every person in there would try to murder Jeremy in his sleep. You know Puck would kill him. Sure, he's a bit of a man-whore, but he respects women, especially you. And how long do you think it would take Santana to claw his eyes out? True, she may not like you. But you're still one of us._

_And after the massacre of Jeremy, we would all give you a group hug, sing for you, tell you everything will be fine, and do our best to make it so._

_He'd never get the chance to hurt you again. I would personally make sure of that._

_So, yeah. I don't know if this changes anything, but, yeah._

_I'm not going to tell anyone, but if I see another incident like the one that must have happened earlier, I'll take care of him myself._

_But please, Rachel._

_Just tell someone._

_Tell me, if you want. I'd take care of everything for you. All you have to do is say 'Sam, Jeremy…' you need to fill in the rest yourself._

_We'll all take care of you._

_I'll take care of you._

_Just say it._

_Anytime, day or night._

_I'm always here, Rach._

_Always._

_Sincerely, Sam Evans_

I thought it was good enough. I folded it up, sealed it, then put it away for tomorrow. I would find a way to slip it into her locker.

The next day, I waited until the halls were empty and everyone was gone. I was going to get into trouble for being late to class, but it was worth it. I made sure Rachel had gone, then I got to work.

I quickly found her locker. Kurt had pointed it out to me once, but I'd seen her at it enough times. With a small amount of difficulty, I slid the sealed letter through the crack and into her locker. I made sure there wasn't anything sticking out. This letter was for Rachel, and Rachel only. I didn't want anyone else reading it.

I heard footsteps. I quickly checked one last time to make sure the letter was nearly impossible to see, then quickly hurried away to my next class.

As I made my way to class, I wondered what Rachel would do. Would she reply to my letter, or ignore it? I hoped she wouldn't do the latter. I had a feeling that from here, things could get better or worse, depending on what Rachel did.

**And that's the first chapter! By the way, I actually have an interesting story behind Jeremy and Rachel and everything that's going on. **

**If you liked this, please review! I love to hear feedback, good or bad.**

**P.S. This most likely won't be a Samchel story. But there may be a chance, so Samchel shippers, don't give up. ;)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee.**

**I forgot to add that this if from Sam's point of view. Sorry about any confusion that may have caused.**

The first thing I noticed later that day was that Rachel didn't turn up for Glee. That was weird. The others seemed to notice it too.

"Where's Berry?" Santana asked. Although she would deny it if anyone said it out loud, there was a hint of worry in her voice. Santana had been the most suspicious about Jeremy from the start. Huh, she must have good instincts. Maybe it was because she had dated so many guys.

I shrugged as I sat down. I wasn't going to tell anyone what I knew. That was up to Rachel. Besides, I didn't even know if she wanted ME to know. So I just sat down as Mr. Schue started the lesson.

Glee went as usual. It was quieter than it had been last year, but by now everyone had gotten used to the quietness. We had all gotten used to Rachel being quiet. It shocked me how oblivious we had been.

I passed my locker on my way out of the school. That was when something caught my eye. I walked over to my locker, inspecting it closely. That was when I saw, through the crack, a piece of paper. I opened my locker and the paper flew out, landing on the floor. I picked it up, unfolding it. It was a letter. My eyes grew wide as I read the letter

_Dear Sam,_

_Jeremy hit me._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Rachel Berry_

My head began to whirl with a thousand thoughts. So I had been right. Jeremy had been hurting Rachel. And she had just indirectly admitted it. I was frozen in the spot, my hand's clutching the piece of paper. That was when I heard the footsteps and laughter of my fellow Glee Clubbers.

I quickly scrunched up the piece of paper, shoving it in my pocket, then shut my locker. That was when Santana, Finn, Puck and Brittany turned the corner. "Hey, Evans, watcha doin'?" I heard Puck ask. I turned to face them as they approached. My face must've given something away, because they became a bit more serious when they saw me.

"Oh, nothing, just a note from...someone." I answered, moving forwards to join their group. "Ooh, a secret admirer." Puck teased. Brittany giggled and I jabbed Puck in the ribs with my elbow. "Ouch, man, not cool." Puck shoved me away playfully. "What, Puckerman hasn't got enough muscle to take a petty blow from Trouty?" Santana commented, smirking. Puck glared at her.

As we left the school I began to pull back from the group. Santana noticed and joined me as the rest continued forwards, laughing as Puck made some joke. "You okay, Trouty?" Santana asked, looking forwards. One thing I had noticed from dating her was that she found it hard to talk about feelings. It made her uncomfortable. "Can you please not call me that?" That came out harder than I had intended. Santana glanced at me, surprised "Whoa, sorry."

We walked in silence for a while, Santana watching me for a while as we walked. Finally she looked away, before asking softly "Sam, are you okay?" It was the first time she had called me Sam in a long time. I sighed, looking at the ground as I answered "Yeah, everything's find, San." I could never look people straight in the eye as I lied. Something in my face always seemed to give it away. Which is why I had always gotten in trouble as a little kid.

Santana watched me again for a while. Her eyes scrutinized me, searching for the faintest hint of anything "Seriously, San, can you not do that? It makes me uncomfortable." I asked. I knew if she did that for much longer I was bound to give something away. Thankfully, Santana looked away, sighing "You're not gonna tell me anything, are you?"

"I told you, there's nothing wrong."

"But if there was, would you tell me?"

"Nope."

Santana sighed again. For a moment, we walked alongside each other, staring at our feet as we walked. Then, looking up again, Santana spoke "Well, seeya, Trouty." She broke into a run and was ahead with the others before I could tell her not to call me Trouty.

That night, I was lying on my bed, staring up at the ceiling. It was past midnight, I knew, and my whole family was asleep. But I couldn't sleep, not with everything I knew. I knew I had to do something about Rachel's situation. But I didn't know _what _to do. I hadn't expected Rachel to reply, let alone come right out and admit it. I suppose I should've thought this through better.

That was when I heard a quiet tap-tap from downstairs. I quickly got up to check it out. I didn't want my parents or siblings to wake up and get it when I was already awake. As I walked past my siblings' bedroom door, I heard Stevie mutter "Mmm, who's that?" I stopped, wondering what I should do. "Uh, no one, Stevie. Just go back to sleep." I quickly whispered "Mmm, 'kay, Sam." I heard the reply before the sound of someone shifting in bed. I sighed with relief. I really didn't feel like little kids bugging me in the middle of the night.

I crept downstairs, trying to make as little noise as possible. When I reached the bottom of the stairs, I froze, listening for a sound. Nothing from upstairs, but still a quiet tap-tap from the front door. I frowned, wondering who it could be. Who could possibly be here at this time of night? A thief? No, they wouldn't knock. Or...

"Rachel!" I whispered as I opened the door and somebody flung themselves into my arms. I recognized her immediately. I hadn't noticed before, but it was raining outside, and Rachel was soaked. But that wasn't the only thing that worried me. Rachel was sobbing, barely managing to stay on her feet. In fact, I think she would've fallen over by now if I wasn't here.

"S-sam.." She stammered through sobs. I didn't know what to do. I felt incredibly awkward. What was I supposed to do? I had never really been good with crying girls. I decided to just do what I did when Stevie stole Stacy's barbie doll or something and just wrapped Rachel in a big hug.

After a while, she calmed down, her sobs becoming softer and more spaced out. I released Rachel from my hug, but as soon as I had I wished I hadn't. She fell to the ground on her knees. I crouched down, looking at her closely. I realised that, although she was still wearing sunglasses, there where purple and black bruises on one side of her face. They hadn't been there earlier.

That was when I realised it. Jeremy had hit her. Again. I felt the anger inside of me rising, but I pushed it down again. I needed to look after Rachel now. I didn't really know if she could get herself in side, so I just scooped her up in my arms. She was lighter than I had thought she would be. Maybe it was because she was so small.

I set her down on the couch, then placed a finger to my lips, signalling for her to be quiet. She nodded, quieting her sobs, tears still running down her face. I went into our small kitchen. It didn't have much, a sink, stove, counter, fridge and below that, a freezer. I went to the freezer now, pulling out the only thing I could think of. An icepack. I wrapped it up then bought it out to Rachel.

She nodded, mouthing the words _'Thank You' _before taking the icepack. She placed it tenderly against her face, wincing at the first touch. I sat down on the ground opposite her and studied her. I could tell she was in pain, more than she must've been at school. I desperately wanted to know what had happened, but I decided just to give her some time.

After about a minute of sitting in silence, I decided to talk to her "Rachel, do you need anything else?" I asked softly. She shook her head, her tears beginning to finally stop. "Th-thank you, Sam." She stammered, taking a few deep breaths. I peered at her face closely, and that's when I saw something.

Her sunglasses covered most of it, but I caught a glimpse of it as she spoke. It was just beneath her left eye, mixed in with all the black and blue. But it was more than just bruised skin. It was darker and more shaped.

I leaned forward, peering closer. Rachel realised I must've seen something and turned away. I realised then that she wasn't trying to hide the bruises. She was actually scared. Of me. Scared of me, Sam, her friend "Rachel, it's okay. Just let me do this." I quietly said, reaching forward to slip the sunglasses off her face. She moved backwards slightly, trying to keep my hand away from her face "Rachel, I won't hurt you. Trust me." I murmured, reaching for the sunglasses again.

She seemed to remember that I wouldn't hurt her, and reluctantly let me pull them off her face. I had to stop myself from gasping when I saw her face. I had known she was injured, but I hadn't the extent of the injuries. Now I saw how bad they were.

The skin around her left eye was nearly completely black, that was how bruised it was. The skin around the left eye wasn't as bad, but was still a scary mix of black and purple. The darker shaped part I had seen was exactly what I had thought it was. It was broken skin. Her face was cut.

My face must've given something away again because she broke down in tears. She seemed to remember what I had told her before though, and kept her sobs quiet. "Hey, Rachel, it's okay" I comforted. I probably would've sat next to her or patted her on the back or something, but after seeing how scared she was of just letting me take off her sunglasses, I decided against it.

"B-but Sam, i-it's..." She didn't finish her sentence. She was crying too much "Rachel, it's okay. I'm gonna take care of you. And when you want them to, the rest of New Directions will too." This seemed to help her, and after a few deep breaths, she stopped crying.

"S-sam, I think I need to go." She whispered. I nodded, standing up. I held my hand out to help her up, and she took it. We walked to the door, and there I gave the sunglasses back "Rach, are you sure you want to go? You can stay here if you want." I was worried about her. I didn't want her going near Jeremy again. I found it kind of strange that I was so protective of her, when I wasn't even dating her. I had never dated her. But, if I did date her, I bet she wouldn't go behind my back and do stuff with other guys (Or girls) like Quinn and Santana had.

"Y-yes, I have to. My dads will be v-very angry if I don't come home." She took a deep breath. She still looked like she could break down any moment "Okay, but if you need me, call, okay?"

"Yes. Goodbye, Sam."

"Bye, Rachel. Don't worry, I'll sort Jeremy out."

Rachel looked slightly worried at this. I frowned, confused. Wouldn't she want Jeremy out of her life, after what he's done to her? But, before I could say anything, Rachel turned and began walking away. She stopped halfway though and turned "Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Please don't get hurt. I wouldn't be able to bear it if you did."

I nodded, smiling. She returned a weak smile before turning again and walking out of sight.

I shut the door behind me as I walked inside. I sighed. What was I going to do? Things were worse than I thought. I had a feeling it was going to take more than one mind to figure this out.

**Thanks for all the reviews everyone! Just because they made me so happy, I got this one out early! You're welcome!**

**Like before, please review! I love reading feedback to my stories. :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee.**

**Uh, a little bit of cussing in here, but I'm sure you won't mind. It was the only thing I could imagine Sam saying. Just warning you for now and future chapters. :)**

****The next day was, thankfully, the weekend. I was exhausted from the night before, but I wasn't going to let that stop me from putting my plan into action.

When I was little, and my mother was stressed from work, she would go out for a whole night with her friends. I could remember asking her why, and she would say "Sometimes only a lady can solve another lady's problems, Sammy." She would muss my hair then, before walking out the door, leaving me puzzling over what she said.

Now that I was older, I understand what she meant. It was those words that had helped me form my plan while trying to sleep last night. I knew that Rachel may not be very happy with it, but I couldn't really think of anything else to do. And besides, this girl may be able to help.

It was because of this plan that I found myself standing outside the Lima Bean at about midday. I hung around the front of the cafe, not going in, but not leaving. I received a few strange looks from people entering and leaving the cafe, but other than that I was ignored.

"Hey, Trouty!" I heard Santana's voice, and I couldn't help but smile. Only Santana would call me Trouty when just the other day I had told her not to "Didn't you hear me tell you not to call me that?" I said cheerfully as she appeared from the shop. She was holding two coffee cups and handed one to me as she joined me "What you gonna do if I keep calling you that, huh? Kick my ass or something?" She teased, and we both laughed. Even though we had broken up, we were still friends. Well, as close to friends as you can get with Santana.

We began to walk down the sidewalk, sipping our drinks. I had told Santana that I would meet her at the Lima Bean, but after that I had told her we would have to go somewhere quiet. This was something only for her ears at the moment. I had expected her to make some joke about me setting up an attack on her or something, but she seemed to tell that it was something serious, and just agreed.

"So, Fish Lips, what did you want?" Santana asked as the noise of the Lima Bean had died away. I sighed, and began "Well, San, you know Rachel's new boyfriend, Jeremy?" Santana nodded slowly, sipping her drink "Well, um, there's something you should know, San, but you can't tell anyone."

"Okay. What is it?"

"Um, I don't really know how to explain..."

"Start from the beginning."

"Okay. It goes like this..."

So I told my story. I explained everything. Throughout all of it, Santana stayed silent, sipping her drink occasionally. By the time I had finished speaking, we were well away from the Lima Bean, and on a quiet path near one of Lima's many small parks. I don't know why they had the parks. No one visited them. Apparently it was to teach the next generation something about 'saving the enviroment'. We stopped, facing the park. For a moment, we stood there, not a word uttered between us. Then Santana spoke "Wow, Sam. Just, wow."

She looked like she was about to say something more when we heard footsteps coming round the corner. Santana and I turned our heads to look, and we saw Jeremy appear. By the look on his tanned face, he was not happy. His hands were clenched into fists and he was walking unusually fast. When he saw us, though, he stopped "Oh, uh, hi, Jeremy." Santana said, a hint of nervousness in her voice. She moved back a tiny step closer to me. I realised that even though Santana was a strong woman, what Jeremy had done to Rachel had scared her, and now she felt uncomfortable around him.

"Sam, Santana, what are you doing?" Jeremy demanded. I could hear anger in his firm voice. I suddenly felt a surge of anger "What, can't two friends just have a coffee together any more?" I replied, my voice matching his. He seemed slightly surprised I matched him like this, but he soon regained his composure "Well, you two did date for a while. " He smirked. I glared at him "What is it to you? You have a _girlfriend _after all."

"What does Rachel matter to you?"

"What does she matter to you?"

I basically snarled at him. He narrowed his eyes, icily saying "Well, obviously there are some people in Lima that don't know the meaning of the word 'polite'." He then walked away, fists still clenched. "Yeah, people like you." I hissed under my breath. As he was walking away, I saw something. Something on his fist. My anger grew.

"Sam, are you okay?" Santana asked, seeing the anger in my eyes. She touched my shoulder, trying to make me look at her. I could tell she was worried. But it didn't help. Before I knew what was happening, my fist flew out, slamming into a nearby wall in my anger. Immediately after, I wished I hadn't done that. Pain shot up my arm from my fist "Ah, fuck!" I swore, cradling my fist in my other hand. Bruises were already appearing on my knuckles. Santana grabbed my arm, looking at my fist, making sure it was okay "Sam, you idiot! What was that all about?" Santana asked, louder than before.

"That motherfucker! He did it. He really did punch her, and he isn't even hiding the bruises on his knuckles! He can't even be polite to other people! Argh, he's such a...fuck!" I swore again as I slammed my hand against the wall in my anger "Sam!" Santana scolded, grabbing my arm and holding it, stopping me front hitting my hand again. I took a few deep breaths before talking again "Why'd he do it, San? Why'd he hurt such an innocent girl like Rachel?"

"I don't know, Sam, but whatever reason he had, I'm going to kill him."

"No, San. Please, just..."

"Talk to Rachel?"

"Please."

Santana sighed "Okay. I will. But you better have a good reason for not letting me kill him now, Trouty." She said, releasing my arm. Dropping her half-empty coffee cup in a nearby trash-can, she walked away. I glanced at her one last time before shutting my eyes and calming myself down. The one thing I registered when I looked at her, though, was the fact that she was walking in the direction of Rachel's house.

**A bit short, but that's because the next chapter will be one from Santana's point of view, on her conversation with Rachel.**

**It's great to see so many people reviewing! I like that so many people like this story. So, please review again! It makes me happy. It makes Mikey the Unicorn-kitty happy to (err, long story there. Let's just say it started with me and my friend messing around with a picture of Mikey Way from MCR.)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee.**

**SANTANA'S POV**

As I walked away from Sam, I felt the shock of what had just happened sink into me. I had never seen Sam so angry. He was normally a very relaxed guy. And what had been wrong with Jeremy?

Jeremy. That name meant so much more to me now than it had yesterday. Why had he hurt Rachel? Sure, she was annoying as hell, but if that bugged him, why had he chosen to be her boyfriend? It just didn't make sense. I had always suspected Jeremy from the start, but I had ignored my suspicions when I saw how happy Brittany was when she saw how happy Rachel was.

I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. I pulled it out, checking it. I had a text message from Brittany.

_Hey San,_

_Wat u up to? Im bored. _

_Britt L-P_

I quickly replied, not wanting Britt to think I was ignoring her or something.

_Baby!_

_Sorry, got sumthin 2 do. Im free in an hour tho. ;)_

_San P-L_

I shoved my phone back in my pocket. Looking up, I realised I had arrived at my destination.

I had always liked Rachel's house, even though I would never admit it. It was nice and neat, with perfectly trimmed grass and weedless gardens. It was hard to believe that there was a beaten girl in there. In fact, it was hard to believe that there was a beaten girl in this town.

I walked up to her door, taking a deep breath. I had to do this. I couldn't chicken out. This wasn't for Rachel, it was for Sam. Although I had just used Sam as an excuse to lie to myself about my feelings towards Brittany, he was the one boyfriend I hadn't slept with while I was with him. Other than Dave, but he didn't count. For some reason, the fact we had never slept together was special to me. Kind of like how someone's first was special to them.

I knocked on Rachel's door. Silence. I thought about leaving, but I decided to persist. This was for Sam. I knocked again. This time, I heard a quiet sniffle, then a soft voice ask "Who's there?"

"Santana." I replied. The door opened and I found myself looking at Rachel. She was dressed in jeans and one of those _hideous _animal sweaters. She was wearing sunglasses again too. But I could see the bruise on her face. "How'd you get that?" I asked nonchalantly as I walked inside. She hesitated for a moment, before answering "I tripped."

"You sure? I didn't think you could get that hurt just from falling over."

"Yes. I'm sure."

"Huh." I muttered. This was going to be harder than I thought. Rachel sure wasn't going to confess easily. I strolled into her lounge, sitting down on the couch. Rachel followed quietly, still standing "So, how's things with you and Jeremy?" I asked, wondering if this would trigger a confession. It didn't, though "Things are fine. Thank you for asking, Santana."

"Look, Rachel, I don't like talking to someone when I can't see their eyes. Be awesome and take those sunglasses of, will ya?" I pushed, knowing I had to get somewhere with Rachel. If I didn't, Sam would have to. And as much as I love him (Not in that way. That love's reserved for a certain blonde dancer) that boy could not sort out a girl's problem if he had an instruction manual.

"Um, no, Santana, I've got a hangover." Rachel replied, looking away. That didn't deter me "Oh, come on, Rachel. I've seen the aftermaths of plenty parties, believe me. Just take them off."

"No." Rachel's voice was firmer now, and more determined. I narrowed my eyes, leaning forwards. Rachel took a step back, but still didn't take the sunglasses off. Then, something clicked in that girl's brain, and she realised what had happened "Sam told you, didn't he."

It wasn't a question. It was a statement. "Yes, he did," No point denying it any longer "But honestly, Rachel, I think you need help. No guy should treat you like that. No guy should treat any girl like that. And trust me, I've got experience with guys."

Rachel laughed "Says the Latina who plays for the other team, huh?" Anger surged up inside me "If that Jeremy guy hadn't hurt you like he has, I would tear your eyes out for that." I muttered through clenched teeth. My hand's were balled into tight fists.

"What, so you care about me now?" Rachel asked, voice icy and filled with venom. I shot up from my seat "Look, Berry, I'm trying to help you here and you're being a total bitch!"

"Well, that doesn't seem to be any different from how you always treat me! Besides, you didn't answer my question."

"I care about Sam. Not you." I was boiling with anger now. It took all my strength just to stop myself from tearing her to shreds.

Rachel seemed genuinely surprised by my answer and spoke, quieter now "What does caring about Sam have anything to do with this?"

"Caring about Sam? Honestly? Do you have any idea how much he's beating himself up, just because he can't help you fast enough? He nearly broke his fist punching a brick wall because he saw Jeremy, for fuck's sake!" I yelled, the words flowing out of my mouth before I knew what I had said. Rachel seemed shocked at first, then anger replaced the shock "So? It's not his problem! I never asked him to become involved!" Tears began to run down Rachel's face.

"You made it his problem! You told him, and now he's hurting because you're hurting!" I found tears welling up in my eyes too. I hadn't realised I cared for Sam so much. I blinked the tears away, before hearing Rachel's answer "Santana, leave. Now." Her voice was quiet, but icy.

"Gladly." I responded, storming out. I walked on the sidewalk for a while, until Rachel's house was out of sight. Then I collapsed. I felt incredibly tired and annoyed. How could that girl not see that I was jsut trying to help? How could she not see that she shouldn't be afraid to tell everyone? I angrily pounded my fist against the concrete, tears slipping down my face.

"Santana?" I heard a soft voice. I hadn't realised I was outside Brittany's house. I looked away from her, not wanting her to see me cry "Oh, San, don't cry." She said, crouching down next to me "I'm not crying." I firmly said, wiping my eyes. But the tears didn't stop.

"Oh, San." Brittany said, and I turned my head to look at her. She looked into my eyes for a moment, before leaning forward and gently pressing her soft lips against mine.

**A little treat for Brittana shippers. :) And I hope someone sees what I did in Brittany and Santana's text messages.**

**Review, please!**


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